


We Need A Little Heart Hope

by ninwrites



Series: Shadowhunters Coda Scenes [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: But it's there, Canon Compliant, Coda, Communication, Dorks in Love, Episode: s02e13 Those of Demon Blood, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Healthy Relationships, If you want - Freeform, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Episode: s02e14 The Fair Folk, Relationship Discussions, Spoilers, barely, can be taken as a sequel to Give The Pain, minor angst/hurt, mostly fits canon, power couple of new york, professional and romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 07:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11286117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninwrites/pseuds/ninwrites
Summary: post 2.13 coda fic.--Alec may not realise it, but Magnus can recognise a crucial moment when it's about to happen. Alec has the realistic power to help change the Shadow World as it currently exists, to give people the rights they deserve, by standing up against his own people, the oppressors themselves.The Head of the New York Institute and the High Warlock of Brooklyn discuss the state of the Shadow World at present, and the rapidly evolving nature of their fervent relationship.





	We Need A Little Heart Hope

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'Heart Hope' by Oh Wonder
> 
> \--
> 
> episode thirteen dug itself under my skin, and these ideas wouldn't let me go, so I wrote them down instead. I hope you enjoy my slice of malec life. <3

_"Magnus, you were right. You never have to prove yourself to me. I love you."_

Such simple words, and yet they shot straight through Magnus' heart like the arrows Alec so expertly aims. The devastating ease with which Alec uttered those words took the air, albeit temporarily, from Magnus' lungs. The best he could reply with was "I love you, too" because nothing else was coming to mind, any possible, more eloquent words had dissipated in the cool evening air.

It was almost second nature, to pull Alec down by a hand on his neck and press his lips to Alec's pleasantly warm ones. There was a slight buzz, when they first made contact, but it fizzled out to something torturously familiar. Kissing Alec had begun to take on a quality much like home, and it was a thought as terrifying as it was comforting, to lose himself in the feeling of being pressed up against Alec's tall and firm chest, Alec's large, calloused hand on the small of Magnus' back, a welcome pressure.

Hours could have likely passed by the time Magnus gains the peace of mind to pull back, his lips falling from Alec's with a slick noise. Alec's eyes are closed, his lashes casting shadows like spider webs down his cheeks, lips parted somewhere between a gasp and a smile.

Magnus strokes his thumb along the curve of Alec's jaw, smiling without thought. He'd told Dorothea that he falls in love with the soul before the sex, and by the magic running through his veins, Alec's soul is one of the kindest and brightest he's ever been privy to.

He's known many a pleasant soul. Jem Carstairs, a Shadowhunter from the 19th century, had a warm and generous soul, would have given anything to those he loved, would have sacrificed his very life and happiness for that of others.

In ways, even his soul cannot compete with the strength of Alec's.

Magnus blinks, brought to the present by the thumb under his chin. Alec's staring at him, eyebrows slightly furrowed, that yearn to understand gleaming in his eyes. He's so patient, and curious, and he's learning not to overstep boundaries, he's learning a lot, and it's far more endearing than Magnus has the dignity to admit.

"Sorry, darling, did I miss something?" Magnus asks, clearing his throat to dispel the slight croak he'd acquired.

"No," Alec shifts his hand until it's resting on Magnus' shoulder, thumb playing with the sequinned collar of Magnus' top. "No, it's just - you drifted, a bit. I wondered where you'd gone."

He fiddles idly with the chain of Magnus' necklace, as though it fascinates him, which in all honesty it probably does. Alec seems to have a _thing_ for his jewellery, any of it. Rings, necklaces, bracelets, earrings. Magnus isn't sure whether it's the fact he'd been secluded from most personal objects of decor, or because they're, well, because they're Magnus', and because they speak to a part of him Alec is discovering more of each day.

"Nowhere important," Magnus assures him, fingertips pressed to the back of Alec's neck. "I'm here, with you. Promise."

Alec smiles, small and yet with the blinding force of the sun, all the same. "Should we-" His mouth parts wordlessly, jaw working in circles, searching for the appropriately formed sentence he wants. "Should we, maybe, move this inside?"

Magnus finds himself smirking, slowly, and it's a little like he's waiting for the ball to drop, for Alec to back out, but he doesn't. He waits, and watches, hand stroking idle shapes against the small of Magnus' back. To say Magnus has lucked out with this one is probably the century's biggest understatement.

He decreases the slight distance between them, enveloping Alec's lips with a warm and slightly open-mouthed kiss. "I can't think of anything better."

 

* * *

 

"So, I have some news."

Magnus glances up, cocktail glass pressed to his bottom lip. He'd swapped the whiskey for daiquiri's, a far lighter and sweeter drink. And, on the plus side, one Alec is warming to. The first sip always seems to hit him a little hard, but after a few it seeps in and it doesn't seem to have as much bite.

"News?" Magnus echoes, one eyebrow raised curiously.

Alec nods, the corners of his mouth tight. He's practically vibrating on the couch, knee bouncing erratically. Magnus folds his leg over his knee, perched in the armchair next to the couch, glass cradled in his hand. The moonlight spills into the room like silver ink, trailing on the floor and cast towards the two of them, helped by the open curtains and clear windows.

"Aldertree has been offically relocated to Idris - the Clave aren't going to investigate him, what with this whole-" Alec swallows, eyes darting to the floor before returning to Magnus. "Missing Mortal Cup business, and now the recent murders, they need as many shadowhunters as they can, so he's being 'permanently repurposed' until further notice."

Magnus echoes the distaste in Alec's tone with a sharp raise of his own eyebrows. "Well, it's always good to see the Clave are dependable on their monotony. If they ever thought to change it would, I'm certain, create an actual fissure in the Earth."

"Right?" Alec sighs, exasperatedly. It only takes a moment before the light returns to his eyes. "Anyway, what with Lydia in Idris, my parent's reputation still tainted from their Circle days and the Inquisitor's necessary presence in Alicante with the council, guess who she appointed Head of the Institute?"

Magnus taps his burgundy nail against the stem of his glass, feigning thought. "Hm, I wonder." He smirks, even as Alec leans back, one arm folded over his chest. "Could it be resident golden-boy, Jace _Herondale_?"

Magnus has known a few Herondale's in his time. Jace's father, though he'll never speak it aloud, was a bit of a pill. There were others, good examples of the Shadowhunter name, but it's been a while. After Stephen's death, it had been widely presumed by most that the Herondale line had ended. There's been rumours, of a lost Herondale line, but no one's ever found much proof, and Catarina - the one who'd brought it to Magnus' attention in the first place - speaks of it more as a rumour than anything near fact.

He's keeping his opinions of Jace reserved at this point. He's not like his father, for which Magnus is grateful - though there is a resemblance, in his character, his penchanct for jumping without thinking and his sarcastic-bordering-on-bitter humour, to Will Herondale, but Jace thankfully hasn't reached Will's level of dramatics, yet.

The desperation to do anything for the girl he loves, even at the cost of his own life - that's something they have firmly in common. Something most Herondales, bar Stephen, seem to, actually.

Alec sips his drink slowly, tongue darting out to slide along his bottom lip in an innocent, yet entirely seductive move. "Naturally," He nods, but he's still smirking, which throws Magnus off a little.

He remembers Alec's words, before the wedding that wasn't, about throwing away his career, his family, his life. Those words had cut deep, sharper than blades, and they still haunt him from time to time. Alec has made it clear, and apologised since, that his intentions were waylaid and he'd attacked outwardly at Magnus instead of at the person he'd really had a problem with - himself.

He'd been angry at his people, his parents, the culture he'd been brought up with - but more than that, at himself, for locking away a part of who he is at thirteen, for proposing to a girl he barely knew instead of giving himself a chance, for letting the wedding and his interactions with Magnus get to the point they had, where he'd been caught between a rock and a hard place, between his duty to his family and his duty to himself.

Thankfully, they've gotten past that since. But some things aren't easy to forget, and it's often at the most inopportune moments that those memories arise. He knows that Alec doesn't regret the kiss at the wedding, doesn't regret their relationship, that he's truly happy with himself for the first time in what feels to him like forever - but instrinsically, a part of him still wants to have that leadership role.

And now it's been given to his _parabatai_ instead of him. Close call of the sharp-edged knife.

"I love Jace," Alec continues, nose scrunching adorably. "But he's, well, ill-fitted for the role. He could sweetalk his way into a threesome but couldn't diplomatically negotiate to save his life."

Magnus, fortunately, manages to refrain from spitting out his drink, though it's feesable for a moment. Alec straightens, a self-satsfied grin breaking out. He's the epitome of smug, right now, and it's surprisingly - attractive.

Magnus swallows thickly, hand clenching over his knee. "Not something the Clave would care about. He's a Herondale, the name speaks louder than any skills Jace may or may not have."

Alec shrugs one casual shoulder. "Right." He strokes his finger around the rim of his glass, thoughtfully. "But Jace has only been a Herondale for less than a week, and isn't all that attached to the name. It doesn't speak volumes for him, personally. In his own words, he's a soldier. Not equipped to lead an entire Institute of shadowhunters, and certainly not in these times."

Magnus' eyes narrow, lips parting in a silent gasp. He thinks he might have caught up. He stares at Alec, hand a heavy weight on his knee, watching the grin spread slowly over Alec's face, pure happiness lighting up his every feature. Stubbornly, he refuses to speak, and Magnus feels anticipation crawling over him, pricking his skin, heightened with every inhale and every second that Alec waits.

"Alexander-" The thread of his resolve quickly snaps. "Come on."

Alec grins, all pink lips and pearly white teeth, shining eyes and contagious excitement. "I'm the new Head of the New York Institute."

For a moment, Magnus can't move. He'd presumed this, been expecting those words, but despite being right and somewhat prepared, he finds himself still caught by surprise.

Alec is the new Head of the Institute. A role he's always wanted, but believed he'd be destined to go through life without, unless he compromised upon who he is, upon his relationship, _their_ relationship. And yet, here he is, with the job he's perfect for, telling the man he loves about it.

It would call for a toast, if Magnus wasn't reaching out to grasp either side of Alec's face, both their glasses discarded to the coffee table. The kiss is persistent and heated and fluctuates between gentle nips and bumping smiles, both too overwhelmed to tamper their feelings.

Magnus pulls back, eventually, if only for the purpose of peppering Alec's face with soft kisses, at every space of skin he can, nose, forehead, cheeks and eyelids, down to his chin and along the length of his jaw, from one ear to the other. Alec is sporting a splitting grin when Magnus finally pulls away enough to notice.

"My, my, Mr Lightwood." Magnus brushes his lips fleetingly against Alec's. "Head of the New York Institute. It's been a long time coming, hasn't it?"

Alec nods, sagely. He can't seem to wipe the grin off his face, and Magnus hopes he never does. It's a beautiful sight. "I thought he was joking, at first. Actually, I thought he wanted me to run the Seelie investigation, and then, you know I considered it, but I couldn't see how it would actually work. I didn't want to get my hopes up prematurely."

Magnus understands that. The crushing feeling of shattered hope can hurt as much as heartbreak, especially when it's for something as invested as Alec is with this job. "How does it work?" He asks, hands sliding down to grasp Alec's shoulders, thumbs pressing against the indentations of muscle and bone.

"Perks of being a Herondale, apparently." Alec shrugs. "He's named me his succesor - I doubt word has reached Idris yet, but as Jace has officially relinquished his title, it doesn't really matter. Things are too hectic at the moment to swap me out _now_ , it would just cause even more unrest and embarrass the New York Enclave in front of - everyone."

Magnus doesn't even have to imagine the wave of laughter that would spread through the Downworld, if Alec was swapped out. Five, six different leaders in as many months, it's plain embarrassing. It's too early to mention it, but Magnus thinks that Alec is not only the best for the job, but someone the Downworld might come to respect. He's biased, certainly, but Alec and Luke have a respective repotoire going, and although things are still a little tense between Raphael and Alec, Raphael still holds a heathy respect for Alec in professional terms.

If Alec is careful about how he proceeds, he might be able to mend what's been broken recently.

"I'm very happy for you, Alexander." Magnus gestures loosely at Alec's lap, and with Alec's nod of consent, he hooks a leg on either side of Alec's and situates himself snugly. "You deserve this."

Alec smiles, humbly. "Thank you." He reaches out, grasping Magnus' waist, thumbs pressed into the divets of his hipbones. "Actually, you helped."

"I did?"

Alec fiddles with Magnus' belt, almost absently. "Yeah. Earlier today, when we-" He coughs, clearing his throat, a sheepish blush crawling up his neck. "We fought - which, I'm really sorry about, by the way, I was totally out of line and I didn't realise, I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry-"

Magnus kisses Alec, soft and chaste, if only to get him to momentarily stop talking. "Alexander. Apology accepted. You're getting a little off-track, though, and I think we should return to you telling me how amazing I am."

Alec laughs, eyes lighting up. "That wasn't exactly what I was saying, but alright." He swallows. "Anyway. You told me to follow my gut, and when Inquisitor Herondale revealed her plans for implementing tracking chips into Downworlders, I, uh, I stood up against her."

Magnus' eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. "They were going to implement _tracking chips_?" He asks. "In all of us?"

Alec nods, slowly. "Her theory was that, as Shadowhunters can be tracked through runes, there should be some way to track Downworlders too. It hasn't gone ahead, only one was actually used and I have that taken care of."

Magnus files that information away for later. It's important, but Magnus trusts that when Alec says he has it handled, that he truly does.

"The way she spoke of Downworlders," Alec shakes his head. "I know I used to be like that, and it - it makes me feel sick to my stomach, how wrong I was, how rude and derogatory I used to speak of Downworlders. She referred to you, to Downworlders as a whole as "those people", and told me that my 'personal relationships' were clouding my objectivity."

Magnus blinks, slowly. He remembers their fight, remembers the way he'd snapped, remembers Alec's almost plaintive request for him to follow along with what he was asking, because it would be easier. Perhaps there had been a better way, for both of them to have acted, but what's done is done and he can't take it back. Part of him doesn't want to, especially not if it's lead to a revelation such as this. Alec's beginning to understand the Downworld better, Magnus isn't going to stand in the way of such, to be quite frank, _revolutionary_ progress.

"At first," Alec clears his throat. "At first, I told her my personal relationships have nothing to do with it, because I'm sick of people taking our relationship and trying to use it against me, as though it's-" He pauses, eyes widening slightly. "As though it somehow invalidates my opinions and ability to handle myself."

Magnus waits for the ball to drop, mouth quirked just slightly.

"That's what it's like for you, isn't it?" Alec asks, though the question is mostly rhetorical. "Every day, that's the kind of, the kind of bullshit you have to put up with."

Magnus nods, sagely. It's something he came to terms with a long time ago, but seeing Alec's realisation is odd - most people don't react the way Alec has when they figure it out. They pity him, or worse, judge him harder. As always, Alec manages to catch him off guard.

"Between my race, the colour of my skin and my sexuality-" Magnus blinks. "One, the other, all of them at once - something always seems to nudge people towards the idea that I'm simply not good enough."

"I'm sorry," Alec exhales deeply. "That's, well, it's crap, but I'm sorry you have to deal with it."

"Unfortunately, Alexander, I doubt this instance will be the last." Magnus strokes his thumb along the underside of Alec's jaw, catching at the slight hints of stubble poking through. "Your - association with me, brings certain _perks_ of it's own. And then, of course, there is the matter of your sexuality; I'm afraid that even without being romantically attached to me, that will likely be a contentious issue itself."

Alec frowns, his mouth twisted into a wry line. "Then I'll deal with it." He states, as though it's that simple. "It took me long enough to get out of the closet, I'm not going to shove myself back in just to appease some bigot who thinks their opinion actually matters to me."

Self-deprecation has an odd habit of creeping in when Magnus least wants it to. "Dating me is an extra load atop what you already carry."

Alec's forehead creases with deep lines. "Magnus, I'm - I'm not going to break up with you." His hands tighten their grip on Magnus' waist. "That's ridiculous. You're the only thing that makes any of this worth dealing with, I'm not going to throw it away to rid myself of a sliver of extra judgement. I'm going to have to deal with it anyway, that's a fact, I made my bed when I kissed you in front of Clave representatives, and I'm more than happy to lie in it."

He leans up, capturing Magnus' lips between his, his teeth nipping gently at Magnus' bottom lip, tongue soothing over it, as though it will express everything he's feeling. To be fair, he's not doing a bad job.

"I _love_ you, Magnus. I wouldn't take back anything, wouldn't change a single thing. Everything that I have been through, everything I will go through, is just a road that leads back to you, and you are one of the best things to have ever happened to me."

For once, Magnus is the one without words. He bends down, mouth already parted, Alec's own warm against his. The kiss is hot and searing and Alec's hands practically burn through his silk top to the skin beneath, his every move persistently responsive. Magnus has been given a gift, not only Alec's love but the man himself, and he intends on cherishing it for as long as he's lucky enough to have it.

"Despite my best intentions," Magnus mumbles against Alec's lips, pulling back just far enough to breathe, though his voice is deep and husky. "I think we've gotten off-course."

Alec blinks, dazed, lips deliciously red and kiss-swollen. "Right." He lifts a hand, scrubbing it over his face before returning it to Magnus' hip. "Right. Basically, I informed the Inquisitor that it was you, a warlock, who told me to follow my gut. And I did. I refused to follow the Inquisitor's orders relating to the chips, and I walked out."

Magnus actually feels a swell of pride inside him. "My brave, strong Shadowhunter-" He murmurs, slipping his hand into Alec's hair, fingers resting against his scalp. "Standing up for himself, fighting for what he believes in. It's a very attractive quality, Alexander, I must say."

"It was the right thing to do." Alec acknowledges. "And, I figured, if I can't stand up for myself, I can't expect anyone else to. Nothing can change if people don't push for it, right? It's not going to be easy, and I know that, but it - it feels worth it."

Magnus, having been at the sight of many such instances, where people push for change, for what they believe in, regardless of the consequences, understands what Alec means precisely, and finds his pride glowing. "The outcome may be hard to glimpse, but I promise Alexander, it _will_ be worth it."

"In a way, it already has been." Alec shuffles in his seat, pulling Magnus closer, a little more comfortably. "Jace took notice, when I stood up for myself, for the rights of Downworlders, and told me that my actions were what nudged him towards handing the title of Head over to me. I'm more inclined as a leader than he is, but more than that, I reminded him that it's not a matter of angel versus demon blood, because all of us, Nephilim, Downworlders, mundanes, have a mix of it all. If we forget that, if we let the Clave forget that, in his words - we deserve a revolt."

"And a revolt is not what the Shadow World needs right now." Magnus concludes.

"Exactly." Alec sighs. "I was an idiot earlier, Magnus, and I'm sorry. If it wasn't for you, I might not have reacted the way I did, and things could have transpired a lot differently."

Magnus begs to differ. "You did it all, Alec. I simply stood up for myself - I've been at witch hunts before, been at the center of them, I saved Catarina from being burned at the stake, because the mundanes of the time thought she was evil for her skills. I refuse to go through it again."

"I understand," Alec replies. "I didn't consider it, at the time, and I should have. But I get it now, as well as I can, and I promise, as long as I'm leading the Institute, nothing like that will happen again. There will be a proper investigation, not a witch hunt."

"Good." Magnus strokes along Alec's hairline, an absent and light touch. "That's all I can ask for."

"You," Alec promises. "Can ask for anything."

It's a sweet gesture, but more than that, a telling one. Alec has been put in an incredibly high position of power, so far as the New York Shadow World is concerned, and Alec's promise extends, he's sure, to more than just boyfriend duties. He can come to Alec in a professional capacity and be respected for it, not ridiculed or dismissed as he had every other time.

Magnus knows he's biased, hard not to be, but he genuinely believes that Alec is the right person for the job. Respectful, moderately calm-natured and always willing to listen to the issue at hand, inclined towards giving Downworlders the same chance to explain themselves, the same right to an appropriate and valid investigation as Shadowhunters would be awarded.

It's not a Earth-shattering change, but it's something. An important step in the right direction, for Nephilim and Downworlders alike.

 

* * *

 

"You're very - bright today."

Magnus glances at Alec through the reflection of his vanity mirror. "Is it a bad thing?"

After all he'd been through, the body-swap, the torture, the stripping down of everything he'd spent centuries building up - Magnus had needed some familiarity. How he styles himself has always been a way for him to cover up his troubles and twisted feelings, to hide behind flashy clothes and bright makeup, as though if he dresses like he's okay, he'll be able to fool himself into believing it.

Magnus isn't sure how to feel about the fact that Alec appears to have noticed. Most people don't. Those close to him, those who've known him for _decades_ , at the least, notice without a second glance, but Alec has known him for less than a year, by all respects it should have taken him a while, at least, to figure it out.

By the hesitant, encouraging smile Alec is currently sporting, Magnus gets the feeling he's been sitting on this for longer than just the past few minutes.

"I think you look gorgeous, like that." Alec admits. "I forgot, with all that was happening this morning, to tell you. I was ... distracted."

Magnus hums, wiping a cleansing cloth over his left cheek. "I had a feeling. When your eloquence drops down to "wow", I figure I've made an impression."

"That's an understatement," Alec corrects, tugging at the black sheet covering his waist.

Magnus had changed up his bedroom earlier, after Alec's first visit and with only one glass of whiskey in his system. Gone was the red, replaced with silky black sheets with shimmering gold decals on the bedspread in flicks and curls, matching pillows that usually pile up on the bed now discarded to the floor. Something a little darker, though no less opulent, for the place he can always retreat to when he needs to get away from it all.

It's intimidating, to a degree, knowing that he now technically shares part of this space with Alec, when he's over, which happens more frequently now than it used to; a blessing and a curse, for Magnus loves it when Alec is over, but in times like this, finds he can't escape the man's presence no matter where he turns - he understands what Alec meant, before, in the times of their non-relationship, when he implied feeling caught and cornered.

It's been a long time since he's had a relationship like this - part of him doubts he's ever had a relationship like what he has with Alec - and he's re-learning how it all works, how to lend himself to another person, how to give away his heart and trust that the person who holds it will protect it, not shatter it.

He trusts Alec. He loves Alec. But this is, in many ways, as new for Magnus as it is for Alec.

"Anything in particular you liked?" Magnus asks, his tone nonchalant, despite the increased beating of his heart. Alec has grown more confident as their relationship has progressed, and Magnus enjoys hearing what he thinks, hearing him admit things he's spent years having to keep locked inside.

Getting Alec to willingly open up can, at times, feel like pulling teeth, but Magnus is nothing if not persistent, and the outcome always pays off the effort.

Alec scrunches his hand in the sheets. "The eyeshadow was," He swallows. "Nice. And the clothes, the shirt was really sparkly, and that's-"

"Nice?" Magnus supplies, a huff of warm laughter escaping his lips at Alec's sheepish nod. "Alexander, my love, only fifteen minutes ago I had you writhing beneath me, but now you're too nervous to admit you liked my outfit?"

Alec glares, half-heartedly. "It's different."

"My apologies." Magnus knows he doesn't sound apologetic at all, mostly because he isn't. The red flush crawling up Alec's bare chest is devastatingly alluring, and Magnus still has half of aforementioned makeup to clean off before he can return to bed.

In desperate times, he'd just magick it off, but removing his makeup is as sacred and calming a ritual as putting it on, and he needs something stable to rely upon, now especially. Alec seems to find it fascinating, both the act and the intention behind it, and is more than willing to wait for Magnus to remove it. The first night Alec had stayed over, Magnus had been prepared to just dispel it with the wave of his hand, but Alec had asked questions, asked about why Magnus puts makeup on, about what spending time on it does for Magnus - his interest was charming and not something Magnus has been able to forget since.

Alec may not understand the appeal of makeup itself, but he recognises what it means for Magnus, and he respects it. Alec, actually, respects Magnus more than a lot of people have in his entire four hundred years of living, and the force of it is, at times, enough to metaphorically knock Magnus over.

"Did you just decide you wanted to try something different-" Alec runs a hand through his ragged, disheveled hair. Magnus had gained a great delight playing with that, twining his fingers in Alec's dark locks, tugging slightly to tilt Alec's head up to meet his.

Magnus blinks, drawing himself forcefully back to the present, managing to catch the tail end of Alec's question.

_"Had something prompted it?"_

Alec has an uncanny ability to see through Magnus like cellophane, when the warlock least wants him to.

"I wanted a change - _needed_ a change." He focuses on his reflection, on the slide of the cloth over his forehead, down his nose, and not Alec's piercing gaze pointed directly at him. The cloth comes away streaked with a clay-like brown, glittering in parts, the remnants of the mask he'd carefully constructed earlier in the day.

It's a sign of his trust that he even allows Alec to see him like this.

"Because of, of everything?"

Magnus discardes the cloth, rifling through the clutter of his vanity to find another, cleaner one, for the pink of his eyelids and coal of his lashes. "In part." He admits, a little reluctantly. "Sometimes, when the ache inside spreads too far, you have to pretend you're okay to _be_ okay."

"But you're not." Alec's voice is quiet, gentle, not prodding so much as treading waters. "Are you?"

 _Tink. Tink. Tink._ Just like that, the walls that Magnus has forced up around his heart shatter into non-existence, like they never really mattered, like they were never really there at all.

"I know you, you said it wasn't my fault, that I couldn't have known-" Alec pauses. "But I should have, and I'm - I'm really sorry, Magnus. For what you went through, what I put you through, what you're still going through now..."

Magnus doesn't say anything, mainly because he can't, any possible words choking his throat.

"I don't expect you to tell me anything, what happened - it's not up to me, how you deal with it. If, if bright outfits and, and pushing the matter down, if that's what helps you, then that's what you should do-" Magnus glances up, noting the wring of Alec's hands in his lap. Alec keeps going, as though he can't stop until he gets it all out. "But I just wanted you to know that - I'm here for you."

"I know," Magnus croaks out. "I know, Alexander, I do, but it's-"

"Hard." Alec finishes, when it becomes clear that Magnus can't.

Magnus nods, the cloth clenched tightly in his hand. His makeup is mostly removed by now, there's nothing left for him to do, but he can't find the energy to move from the seat. He runs a hand through his hair, flattening it, though the subtle red sides and silvery streaks remain - sleeping with hard spikes is less than comfortable, but the dye job is new and he's grown quite fond of it, so it can remain.

Alec shuffles up the bed, his back resting against the headboard. His hands are resting in his lap, skin glistening with drying perspiration, black runes stark against his pale skin. Barely thirty minutes before, Magnus had traced those bold lines with his tongue; he's rarely felt further away from Alec as he does right now. There's an invisible distance between them, one cultivated by Alec's generous desire to understand and Magnus' stubborn self-preservation.

Magnus exhales deeply, hands shaking. He clenches them into fists, spread on the expanse of his robe-covered legs, knuckles white.

"Look, Mags, I'm - I'm new to this. To all of this." Alec waves an errant hand to gesticualte his point further. "And I'm going to make mistakes, I'm going to mess up and get it wrong sometimes - but I promise, I promise to _try._ "

_I hear that relationships, they um, take effort._

_I'm all for effort._

"That's understandable, Alexander," Magnus spins in his chair, glacing at Alec through half-lidded eyes. "So long as you accept your mistakes, and apologise for them afterwards."

"I will." Alec nods, fervently, as though the faster he moves his head the clearer he'll get his point across. "I do. Accept, my mistakes, that is. All of the, unfortunately frequent ones I've made recently."

"Though you're made to believe differently," Magnus stands up, hands fluttering at the ties of his robe. "You are human, Alec. Angel heritage aside. Even half-demon beings make mistakes."

"Mistakes make you human." Alec replies, quietly. There's a thread of something heavy to his words, something strong and biting. Magnus crosses his way slowly towards what's oddly become _his_ side of the bed.

Alec smiles, curt and a little strained. "When - and don't take this the wrong way - but when you make mistakes, how do you, handle them?"

Magnus runs his thumb along the line of his index finger, tracing over the small dents and minor ridges. "I try and rectify the situation as best I can. And apologise. There's only so far as you can go before it's out of your hands."

"Good thing I'm getting a lot of practice in saying sorry, then, hey?" Alec smiles wry, letting slip a huff of self-deprecating laughter. He looks incredibly young, yet paradoxically burdened by weights that aren't all his own. Like Heracles holding up the sky for Atlas - though Alec would let the sky crush him before turning back on his promises.

Magnus perches himself on the edge of the bed, but doesn't make any move to actually get into it. Small tremors are racing beneath his skin like currents of electricity, the center of his stomach bristling with twisted nerves. He owes this to Alec, owes him the truth, with how fair and honest Alec has been with him, realistically throughout their entire relationship.

_I'm in love with Alec._

"Have I ever told you that whiskey rocks is my heartache drink?"

Alec's eyes widen, just slightly, as he shakes his head. "No, you - uh - you haven't."

"It's reserved only for situations that fall under that particular moniker." Magnus inclines his head slightly. "I was, a tad upset after our conversation earlier."

He feels the need to clarify, though his radio silence throughout the entire day likely spoke for itself. Alec shuffles, ever so slightly, his hand resting on the sheets between them. Magnus glances at it, fleetingly, but can't bring himself to move. He needs to get this out, in the open, before he can do anything of the sort.

He should have told Alec earlier, but he'd been swept up in the moment, drawn in by Alec's charming smile and loving eyes, letting go of his troubles for a few hours while he could, because in times of dire strife it's the appreciation of the small things that matters the most.

"Dot came over, for a little-" He swallows past the lump in his throat. It's not like Alec isn't aware of what he is. "Immortal chit-chat. We discussed the state of the Downworld, interesting things we'd seen or been a part of, reminisced the way only those with forever spread before them can."

Magnus glances down, at the slip of his bare leg resting on the covers. His robe is a deep purple that shimmers with movement, a contrast to his bronze skin, and a colour that Alec has commented positively on before.

There's a bitter taste coating Magnus' mouth, but he swallows it down and presses on. "We drunk, a lot, and as always seems to happen when I flirt with intoxication, it lead to dancing."

Alec hums. "I would have liked to see that."

At this, Magnus does move. He pats Alec's knee, the touch reassuring for the both of them. "One day," He promises. "I'm getting off-track. There was music, and then dancing, and adding that on top of the whiskey burning through my veins-"

Magnus cuts himself off. The words are harder to spit out than he'd have thought. Alec reaches out, and covers Magnus' hand with his own, fingers falling into the open spaces. He smiles, encouragingly, sending a spark straight through to Magnus' heart.

"Whatever it is, Magnus, you can tell me."

Magnus finds himself smiling despite his better desire not to. It's hard, when Alec's so generously open and caring and just _there_ for Magnus.

_Alec's lucky to have you._

Dot probably didn't even realise the entire depth of her words, the heavy meaning that Magnus took them with. Magnus is the lucky one. The luckiest one.

"There was, a moment." He admits, words slippery and reluctant. "Nothing happened - _nothing -_ but there was an almost-moment, and you deserve to know about it. If I expect you to trust me, I should extend a respect worthy of it."

A beat of silence passes, and then Alec squeezes their hands, fingers curled against Magnus'. "An almost-moment?" He asks, voice deliberately even and quiet.

Magnus breathes in deeply, and manages to draw his eyes up to Alec's. Alec is watching him, patiently, but there's nothing condemning about his gaze. It's, surprisingly light, no hint of the hurt or anger Magnus had been expecting.

"When Camille kissed you, did I run away?"

Magnus's jaw tightens at the thought of his ex, but shakes his head. "No."

"We barely knew each other then," Alec reminds him, thumb stroking along Magnus' wrist. "And yet, I still trusted that it wasn't intentional on your part. Things are different now - I know you, Magnus, you're a man of your word and a man of integrity. If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."

Magnus exhales a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"Thank you." Alec smiles at Magnus' quirked eyebrow. "For telling me. You didn't have to, considering there isn't much to tell, but I appreciate it."

Magnus shakes his head, fondness carving out a gentle smile. "You're a man of a thousand wonders, Alexander."

"Gotta keep you on your toes, somehow." Alec smirks, all soft corners and crinkled edges. "Are you going to properly come to bed, now, or do I need to pull you in myself?"

Magnus leans over, though the angle is a little awkward, and presses a warm kiss to Alec's smiling mouth. "Just a second."

He stands up, flicking aside the covers with a sweep of his hand, blue sparks falling from the tips of his fingers like specks of glitter. Alec watches, awe lighting him up in ways that stutter Magnus' heart. How he managed to get so lucky as to fall for someone as beautiful and kind-hearted as Alec, he'll never understand. But he has, and in return Alec has fallen for him, against all odds pushed against them, and he plans on cherishing it for as long as he has it.

The robe is discarded to the end of the bed, the comforter - and Alec's firm torso - warm enough to keep any necessary limbs from freezing off. Alec already has his arm held out, and Magnus snuggles into the inviting space, head tucked into the crook of Alec's neck, arm wrapped around his waist, legs tangled together beneath the sheets, long and endless, a human re-enaction of a mobius strip.

"I'm really glad you're here," Magnus admits, speaking from his fluttering heart. It's hard to sleep when Alec isn't around - his absence is, fortunately, not that frequent, but it happens, and when it does, it makes Magnus feel a little, well, _lost_.

The apartment is too quiet, the bed too large, the couch a practical seat and not a comfortable make-out spot, the balcony a hubb of sirens and shrieks, not a quiet space to revel in the comfort of another.

"I'm glad I'm here, too." Alec strokes the nape of Magnus' neck, almost absently. "Not that there's actually anywhere I'd rather be, than with you."

Magnus presses a kiss to Alec's collarbone, then his sternum, then one directly above where his heart beats steadily in his chest. For a man of notoriously few words, Alec manages to be strikingly eloquent when Magnus is least expecting it.

"I love you," He whispers, breath hot against Alec's neck. He leans up, brushing his lips across Alec's, sucking lightly at his bottom lip. Alec's eyes are glittering, his free hand skating idly across Magnus' forearm.

"I love you, too." He replies, an echo of words Magnus has uttered what feels like a thousand times.

Magnus is sure that he'll never tire of hearing it, and by the quirk of Alec's smile, he doubts that Alec will either. They gravitate together like magnets, soft and slippery, each taking the time to just appreciate what they have, what they hold, what they share.

An inspiring man Magnus had the pleasure to fleetingly meet, once said: _"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that."_

Magnus has a lot of darkness inside him, coursing through his veins and tainting his soul - providing he does have one. (The jury's still out on that.) But Alec - Alec is the light he needs to keep the darkness from taking over. Alec is sweet and pure and his soul is so illuminated it's a wonder he isn't an actual angel himself, fallen to earth to protect those who can't protect themselves.

Magnus is bursting at the seams with love for this man, he's drowning in it, and in times like this, one can either sink or float.

He refuses to sink.

 

* * *

 

Magnus wakes up first.

Alec's head is pillowed on his chest, arm wrapped around his torso almost protectively, as though it will keep Magnus from escaping at any time during the night. As if Magnus would even dare.

He waves an errant hand towards the curtains, sparks dripping as sometimes tend to happen as he's waking up, his magic aligning itself, centering around what it's required - though the glamour, he keeps down. The window reveals itself slowly, golden light dripping into the room, a puddle of sun on the dark 18th century Persian rug.

It's early, too early for Magnus to be all that pleased, but the sun is warm and rising and he has Alec pressed snugly to him, so it could be a lot worse. There's been no calls, or texts, no fire messages - which his more magically inclined clients tend to prefer - nothing requiring him to move. So he doesn't.

He lies there, hand curled around Alec's neck, head tilted down to gaze at every visible inch of his shadowhunter. Alec's _deflect_ rune stands stark against his neck, a reminder of his birthright, a symbol of his daring heritage and imbedded skill and finesse. A sign of that which binds together Alec's blood with his steadfast morals and aching desire to do what is right and protect those he loves, even at the danger to himself.

A Shadowhunter. It's an amusing thought, one best kept to the safe privacy of his own mind - in all his endless years, he's never shared a dalliance of any length with one of the Nephilim. He's been propositioned, many a time, but never for anything serious or lasting.

There'd been that, moment, with Will, but that was a ploy of heartbreak and entirely one-sided, so doesn't, in Magnus' mind, actually count.

Mortals, he's shared his heart with, but there's a thin line between mortals and Nephilim that Magnus had yet to cross, before Alec had saved his life.

Because _of course_ , that's how they met, Alec taking down a Circle member with sleek finesse before Magnus had even ascertained his presence. Through everything, the aches, the push and pull, the outright dismissal of his feelings - a reasoning he understands better know than he had at the time - through every stumble their budding relationship had taken, Magnus hadn't stepped away.

At times he thought he should have. Left Alec with his family and his duty and his Institute, and taken his scratched-up heart to heal somewhere warm and sunny and far from the frigid New York air.

But he couldn't.

There was something, deep and intrinsical, pulling Magnus towards Alec like planets in orbit, and no matter how hard Magnus tried to step away, he always found himself drawn back in.

He wouldn't change it, now, not even if he had the chance. Hindsight is a remarkable thing, and while it's true his relationship with Alec, and most certainly the circumstances surrounding it, are not all sunshine and roses, it's undoubtedly _worth it._

Worth the difference and the misunderstanding and all the troubles in the world, for Alec's love is a gift in itself. Alec pours his entire, beautiful soul into everything he does, and that includes the way he loves; it's a palpable, visceral exchange of emotions that Magnus is by no means strong enough to combat.

A lucky thing, then, that he has no desire to.

"Mags?"

Alec burrows deeper into the crook of Magnus' neck, mouth parting in a sleep-heavy sigh. Magnus worries a little at the pick-up of his heart and just how loud Alec must be hearing it, but doesn't make any effort to move away.

"Good morning," Magnus presses a soft kiss to Alec's forehead, holding his lips there for a beat before pulling away. Alec's eyes flicker open, lashes long and fluttering like the wings of a butterfly.

"Yeah," Alec smiles, soft and delicate. "It is."

 _This man will be the death of me._ Magnus thinks, a matching smile tugging at his own lips. And what a pleasant way to go, that would be.

He presses a line of kisses down from Alec's hairline to the tip of his nose, ending with a soft brush against his smiling mouth. "So, how did our Mr Lightwood sleep last night?"

An sweet crease deepens on Alec's forehead. "I slept, fine - good - but why ... why the _Mr_?"

Magnus traces mindless shapes into the nape of Alec's neck, thumb pressed firm to his back. Alec is charmingly confused, which brings to light just how deep his diffidence truly runs.

"Well, you are Head of the New York Institute, now, are you not?" Magnus quirks a coy eyebrow. No such concept as 'too early' when it comes to flirting, not in his books, not where Alec is concerned. "That comes with a few perks."

Alec shifts, leaning up on his arm, the other still flung loosely over Magnus' waist. "I am." He sounds awestruck. "I'm - I never thought I could have, all of this."

Magnus curbs his nails against Alec's neck, soft and soothing. "All of what?"

He thinks he knows, but he wants Alec to say it, wants to hear it _from_ him.

"I thought that, by giving in-" Alec pauses, and then shakes his head, just slightly. "By opening myself up to, to this, to us, that I'd have to give up any chance of a leadership role. I accepted that, because if it came down to being myself, and giving it all up - giving you up - then the job just, wouldn't be worth it."

Magnus exhales slowly, unable to form any coherent words - a damage to his reputation, were it to happen in front of anyone else. Although, as just discussed, Alec is the leader of the New York Shadowhunters ... there's a new level of professional respect, between them, now.

"As I told Jace, the Clave weren't going to just hand it over to me, not after - the impression I've made. And I've come too far to sacrifice it all now." Alec traces a shape over Magnus' hip, a flick here, a dip there, a curl at the bottom.

Magnus doesn't know a lot of runes, it's not habit for him to memorise them, but he's taken to learning a few since meeting Alec. It takes him a moment to place it, and when he does, his heart leaps into his throat and sticks there.

 _Love._ Not able to replicate feelings itself, just a way for the criminally repressed Nephilim race to express the depth of their emotions to another. It's a reserved, sacred thing.

And Alec is tracing it into Magnus' skin.

"You deserve it," Magnus states, when the ability to speak comes back to him. "The job, the title, the responsibility. You're perfect for it."

The last two words seem a little uneccessary, in Magnus' eyes, but it's a nice moment, and more than that, he's trying to prove something to Alec, something that he's clearly having trouble believing himself.

"We'll see," Alec smiles despite his words, cheeks lit with a delicious blush. "It's barely been a day. Even if the Clave accept it-"

"Which they will," Magnus interrupts, gently. "If they want any semblance of normality."

Alec's grin brightens impossibly. "Even then, it's still yet to be proven whether anyone else will actually listen to my orders, or dismiss them because they ... disapprove."

"If they don't listen to you, then they're stupid." Magnus states, certainly, hand slipping to cup Alec's cheek. He brushes his thumb along the curve of Alec's cheekbone, admiring the flecks of green in Alec's hazel eyes. "You're undoubtedly the best. Ignoring you will only get them killed."

"Don't you think you're a little biased?" Alec asks, hesitant despite his growing smirk. "You are dating me, after all."

"Correction," Magnus lifts a hand, brushing his thumb across Alec's bottom lip. "I'm in love with you. But my opinion exists from deeper than just my personal standpoint - you're calm and even-tempered, which few others are, and you have a healthy care and respect for the Downworld that we all need in times like these."

Alec's hand slides up Magnus' side, resting over the cage of his ribs, the bronze skin stretched over it, warm and soft to the touch. "So - the High Warlock of Brooklyn thinks I'm good for the job?"

Magnus wonders, distantly, if Alec gets the same thrill from hearing his title fall from Magnus' lips, as Magnus does when he hears Alec utter them. "The High Warlock of Brooklyn would prefer no one else. I'm sure Luke would agree with me - if there's anyone perfect for the job, Alec, it is you."

"I love you," Alec replies, almost like a knee-jerk reaction. He lifts up, legs shifting until they're firm on either side of Magnus' thighs, hands coursing up Magnus' bare chest.

Magnus blinks, distant and unfocused for all but the thudding of his heart and the sparking points where Alec's skin touches his.

"I love you, too." He replies, because of course he does. In what world would he be stupid enough to not love Alec Lightwood? An unfortunately deprived one, that's for sure.

Alec pushes forward, lips parted and enthusiastic, and he's smiling too much for it to really quantify as an actual kiss, but Magnus couldn't care less. Their noses bump, soft and squashed, Alec's hands traversing Magnus' chest like it's the first time, and the hundredth, all at once. Magnus grips Alec's hips, tight enough to leave fleeting impressions on his skin, tongue sweeping out to lick at Alec's supple bottom lip.

It's a gift, much like the man himself, to wake up with Alec, before the real world has managed to taint their day, where everything is laid before them, endless and full of open possibilities.

Where the moment is theirs and theirs alone, whole-hearted and uninterrupted.

"I was thinking..." Alec pulls back, gaze flicking to Magnus' bottom lip. He doesn't finish his sentence, apparently side-tracked.

Magnus raises a curious eyebrow, and waits. Realisation sinks in slowly, like a stone in water.

"You're all pretty and delicate in the morning," Alec explains quietly. "It's very distracting." He says it off-handed and almost accusingly, though no heat carries his words.

Magnus strokes cursive, indecipherable script onto the skin of Alec's hips, and waits.

"As a leader in the New York Downworld," Alec runs a hasty hand through his ragged hair. "What you would you - professionally - say to a meeting?"

"A meeting?" Magnus echoes. "What kind of meeting?"

There's no flirt, no tease to his tone. Alec is asking him to take this seriously, and he is. It's clearly important to Alec, and Magnus gets the feeling, will be to a lot of others, himself included.

"A meeting between me, and you, and Luke, and Raphael - I've heard the Seelie Queen can be a little whimsical in her discussions, so perhaps Meliorn in her place..."

"A meeting with leaders of the Downworld - it's not a terrible idea." Magnus doesn't comment on the Queen. He's had more than his share of unfortunate run-ins with her regalness, and whimsical is too kind a descriptor.

"There's a clear divide building, and if we let it grow, there will be a revolt ... I don't want that, I don't want innocent blood on my hands if I can prevent it. Working against the Downworld, clearly, hasn't been helping anyone." Alec's mouth twists in wry disgust. "Valentine is more than just the Clave's problem, and keeping Downworlders out of the dark isn't working. They deserve to know what's going on, deserve to have a say, and if they like, offer any options they think might work."

Magnus stares, waiting for a slip or falter, but there's none. Alec is genuinely serious about what he's saying, he's not going to back down, and it's that exact type of well-placed steel resolve that the Downworld need, if they're going to discuss anything with Shadowhunters.

"I'm sure, if it's properly explained that the Downworlders are at the meeting to talk, and not be interrogated, everything should be fine." Magnus scrapes a nail lightly down Alec's abdomen. "But that has to be clarified first."

"Would you mind, helping me organise it?" Alec asks, as though Magnus might say no.

"I'd do anything for you, Alexander." Magnus leans forward, head tilted to get his message across. Alec bends down and though the kiss is chaste and short, it carries with it a meaning heavy and sweet, dripping like honey.

"You know," He ponders, punctuating with a kiss on Alec's forehead. "This might just be the first stitch required to repair Shadowhunter/Downworlder relations."

"You think?"

Magnus smiles fondly, hands curling up to pull Alec impossibly close. "Oh, Alexander. You doubt me?" He peppers Alec's cheek with fleeting kisses. "I wouldn't lie to you."

"Perhaps not," Alec considers. "But you do have a habit of putting more faith in me then perhaps I rightly deserve."

"You deserve everything," Magnus promises, veins singing with untamed adoration. "And this is no exception."

It might not be the end to all of their problems. But it will be a start, a step in the right direction, for everyone.

Alec is putting faith and trust in the Downworld, inviting them to participate in a discussion, not making the decisions for them - giving the Downworld the voice they have, as a collective, been fighting for since Jonathan Shadowhunter graced the lands.

Alec may not realise it, but Magnus can recognise a crucial moment when it's about to happen. Alec has the realistic power to help change the Shadow World as it currently exists, to give people the rights they deserve, by standing up against his own people, the oppressors themselves.

Alec has the potential to be a conduit of change. And, as miraculous as it is, Magnus is lucky enough to be right there with him.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually really enjoyed episode thirteen - as always, there just wasn't enough malec, so I fixed it. ;) (although, a whole episode with only magnus and alec wouldn't be enough for me, I'm too in love with these dorks for my own health..)
> 
> quote included from Martin Luther King Jr. "Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."
> 
>  
> 
> thank you for reading - [my tumblr](http://killjoyrow.tumblr.com) and [fandom side-blog](http://drugs-and-candy.tumblr.com)


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